


Scene in a Parking Deck

by manicmanner



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Possibly pre-Felicity/Laurel, Post 03.10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmanner/pseuds/manicmanner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity attracts a certain type of person these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scene in a Parking Deck

Felicity was starting to realize she attracted a certain type of person these days, but she hadn’t thought of the implications. The city had gone berserk looking for the Canary. And considering that said vigilante had stolen tech from Felicity, well, it wasn’t a mystery to her who it was.

But she hadn’t expected a repeat of events.

She was leaving Palmer Technologies after a long day of fielding calls from the police (Lance losing his mind over the fact Sara might be back in Starling and wasn’t talking to him), her team (who was trying to figure out where Laurel was and talk some sense into her), and clients of Palmer Technologies (who only met the lowest rung of Felicity’s troubles that day.) Needless to say Felicity was trying to rub the headache out of her temple as she made her way to her car. As she unlocked it from a few feet away she heard an unusual rustling sound.

She paused. Felicity started digging through her purse for her mace spray as she called out, “This is not the day to mess with me! Do your worst!” She pretended she didn’t notice her voice going up an octave.

From close-by she could hear someone cough. The sound was wet, something Felicity had unfortunately learned meant someone had taken one too many hits to the chest, and quiet. But Felicity watched as a woman rolled out from under her car. Laurel, who was decked out in an outfit reminiscent of her late sister, sleek black leather and blonde wig included, but Felicity couldn’t have mistaken her for Sara. 

Felicity had know Sara, worked with her and maybe even friends with the woman. But Felicity only knew Laurel from the snapshots of the woman’s life that she had stumbled upon. The soft curves that Felicity had first been greeted with when Laurel was simply Oliver’s Laurel and then the stark hollowness of her face when she had been coping with losing Tommy had somehow morphed into the lean muscle Felicity could see now.

Laurel felt oddly real in a way Felicity hadn’t really known her to be until this moment, even as she curled a protective arm over her chest and the cut on her black-painted lip dribbled dark red down her chin.

Felicity had an odd sense of deja-vu at the sight, remembering the night Oliver had confirmed his nighttime occupation as the Arrow by bleeding out in her backseat, followed quickly by a pang of pain and a pinch of almost hysterical anxiety with that mental connection. “What is my life?” she groaned under her breath.

“Felicity?” Laurel’s voice was thready. Felicity’s instincts finally kicked in and she knelt over the other woman. She checked her pulse first, which beat steadily under her fingers, before doing a cursory check of Laurel’s body. The only thing she could see was the leather, no shine of blood anywhere on Laurel. “I’m sorry to put this on you.” 

Felicity’s gaze snapped back to Laurel’s face. She couldn’t help it that her attempt at a reassuring smile felt brittle. She helped Laurel sit up, propping her against the car door. “You wouldn’t be the first person to. Why aren’t you in the car already?” 

Laurel looked confused. The frown only made the cut star bleeding again. She didn’t seem to notice. “Why would I be?”

Felicity held back the urge to scrub the blood off Laurel’s chin. “Ah.” She looked around the parking deck. No one was around, it seemed. “How long have you been lying down there?”

She watched as Laurel’s face contorted in concentration, brows almost lining her domino mask and her lips forming a thin line. The tech made a mental note to tack on more damage than whatever tale Laurel tried to sell her. Although Felicity didn’t remember seeing Laurel like this before. Maybe she wore that same kind of expression when she took the LSATs. Felicity tried to not follow the line of thought. Not relevant, she thought to herself.

“I got in between a couple of disputes on the way here. Two guys near the docks, then I started moving this direction and stopped an attempted mugging with one man, then two more men a couple of blocks from here who were following a girl. I took a couple of kicks to the chest that probably fractured a rib. And I guessed you were still here, and here we are, an hour after I rolled under your car. I think.”

Felicity blinked. “That was informative.”

Laurel rolled her green eyes up to at her. “Isn’t this what Oliver does? He trusts you with this kind of stuff, right?” She sounded slightly suspicious.

There was that shooting pain again with Laurel’s use of the present tense. She remembered the feel of Oliver’s lips against her forehead, the certainty in his voice when he said he loved her. She thought back to the talk with Diggle about Oliver really being gone. She thought about Ray’s face when she had told him he wouldn’t help him. Felicity closed her eyes and took a couple of deep, hopefully calming breaths.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Laurel offered clumsily. Felicity opened her eyes to see Laurel’s uncertain expression. That was a first for Felicity; Laurel always seemed fully committed to whatever she was doing, at least whenever Felicity was around. 

Felicity sighed. “He doesn’t usually volunteer the extent of his injuries without a lot of prodding. He does the whole suffering quietly thing.” Felicity glanced over Laurel’s shoulder to look at the car door. “Would you be able to manage getting into the backseat by yourself?” With Laurel’s nod, Felicity tapped the button of her remote again to unlock all of the doors.

When Laurel gasped in pain as she pushed away from the door Felicity’s hand shot out to steady her. The familiar feel of leather under her hand brought a new wave of mixed feelings to the surface, but the blonde stubbornly pushed them aside to help Laurel into the car. She couldn’t help herself after she had gotten Laurel settled in the back and had buckled herself in in the front seat the burn of tears and the white-knuckled grip she had on the steering wheel.

That’s when she felt the hesitant brush of Laurel’s fingertips on her bare right arm. She glanced at the gloved hand instead of craning her neck around to look at Laurel’s face. She didn’t want to see the look of understanding on her face. She didn’t need it, didn’t want it. Oliver wasn’t dead, dammit.

The silence that settled was tense as Felicity tried to reign in feelings. “Felicity.” That note of finality was made Felicity turn and look at Laurel. The woman had taken off her mask and immediately drew Felicity in with her hazel eyes. “I know how it feels. Trust me, I know better than anyone how much it hurts when you think Oliver Queen is dead. But he’s not, and you can’t give up on him, okay? That’s the one thing you can’t do.”

Felicity’s gaze went from the lawyer’s determined eyes to her set jaw to her barely-trembling lips. 

Felicity jerked her head in a nod. “Yeah—“ Sniffle. “Yeah, okay.” She looked away from the woman in black in her backseat as she took off her eyes to dab at her eyes, oddly comforted by the touch of Laurel’s lingering fingers on her arm, which had never left.

It was odd that it was this moment Felicity could see what it was about Laurel Lance that made people like Oliver love her; her beauty and that fire in her that few seem to see outside of a courtroom. It was this moment that shifted the woman from being Laurel Lance, Oliver’s Laurel, to Laurel, the woman who would and could fight tooth and nail for anyone she felt was worthy. 

Felicity wasn’t sure what that distinction was just yet, but she wanted to find out. Which scared her, since it took Laurel putting on a costume and getting pulverized to realize that. She didn’t want anyone else getting drawn into this business. But Felicity didn’t think this was something Laurel had taken on lightly, no matter what the guys back at Verdant would mostly likely say. 

The waves of emotion faded back into the background, but a heavy sense of dread sat at the bottom of Felicity’s stomach.

When the world wasn’t blurry with unshed tears Felicity started the ignition. “I’m taking you back to Verdant. I’m assuming you don’t want a hospital.” She glanced at Laurel’s nod in the rearview mirror. She sighed again, feeling completely wrung out and knowing she had a long way before rest could come. “The guys will try and grill you, but I’ll keep them off your back until we fix you up. But we do need to talk about this, okay?”

“That’s fine,” Laurel said. There was a pause. “Thank you, Felicity.”

And so Felicity drove back to Verdant after one of the longest days of her life with work still left to do. But never during the trip did Laurel’s hand leave her arm, and for that Felicity counted her lucky stars. She needed strength and Laurel was kind enough to provide it. She didn’t have a lot going on for her at that moment, but for the moment, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out funny and fun, I swear. But I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
